Tag: poetry

Is Your Ox Getting Heavy?

Have you heard of Milo of Croton? Perhaps you are carrying some heavy burdens that would take a strength greater than his to bear? Is there help?

Dale Pollard

Milo of Croton was a six-time Olympic wrestling champion and legendary athlete from the 6th century BC Greek city of Croton. He’s a well known figure in ancient history for many impressive feats including winning the boys’ wrestling competition in 540 BC and then the men’s wrestling competition for four years in a row (62nd through 66th Olympiads). However, Milo is probably best known not for his wrestling career but  for his strength training methods. This supposedly involved carrying a young calf over his shoulder every day until it progressively grew larger and larger until eventually the calf became a fully matured ox. Afterwards he allegedly even carried the ox through the stadium at Olympia. 

It’s unknown exactly how heavy the confused ox on Milo’s shoulder was but today they can weigh between 1,500 and 3,000 pounds. Oxen are larger and heavier than cows, are intentionally bred to be the strongest and largest animals capable of doing work. It typically takes about two years from birth to maturity which doesn’t seem like a long time— unless you’ve been picking it up every day. 

Hebrews 12:10 encourages the Christian by reminding us that the temporal discipline we receive from God is for our eternal benefit. Taking up the name of Christ and lifting up our cross on a daily basis may seem daunting but it’s only for a season. The process itself increases our endurance and firms up our faith and the most encouraging part of all is that we aren’t expected to make the lifts alone. 

“You shall not see your brother’s donkey or his ox fallen down by the way and ignore them. You shall help him to lift them up again” 

(Deut. 22.4). 

“I was pushed hard, so that I was falling, but the LORD helped me” (Ps. 118.13). 

“For my yoke is easy and my burden is light”

 – Jesus (Matt. 11.30) 

Let’s Stop Hiding!

(POEM)

Neal Pollard

We wall ourselves in and keep others out,
In fear that our struggles will be known,
We let Satan attack us and thrash us about
As we struggle, feeling all alone
“No one can know of my weakness or sin,
My worries, insecurities, or fears,
Or I’ll feel less than others, I’ll lose, they will win,
So I’ll languish in secret sorrows and tears.”
Why do we believe this biggest lie
That being known we won’t be loved and embraced ?
Others are perfect, together, why try
To share what will make us disgraced.
Who wants us to hide in humiliation
To isolate ourselves from each other?
Isn’t the devourer, who in his degradation
Makes us hide from our sister and brother?
Or our spouse, who we need to help us overcome
We must not run away from the flesh of our flesh!
Or hide or withhold, in any part or sum
From our helpmeet with whose heart we should mesh.
Alone we are vulnerable, fodder for Satan
We must come out of the shadows into light,
Lean on His family, there is no debating
Be transparent before Him, it’s what’s right!

An Excellent Wife

Neal Pollard

The book of Proverbs ends, in chapter 31, with an investigation. The writer, whether Lemuel is making observations or passing along his mother’s sage guidance, leads the search. He writes how rare and valuable an excellent wife is (10). It is a literary masterpiece, an acrostic poem (each verse begins with a successive letter of the Hebrew alphabet) and a chiasm (“a rhetorical or literary figure in which words, grammatical constructions, or concepts are repeated in reverse order, in the same or modified form,” Apple Dictionary, 2.3.0). You would diagram the outline of the chiasm like this: A B C B A. The chiasm was a literary way to show the heart or focus of a specific section of Scripture. It would be readily identified by a Jewish reader, but it enriches our study when we understand that it’s intentionally there. The heart of this poem is verse 23: “Her husband is known in the gates when he sits among the elders of the land.” The net effect of the kind of wife described here is that it blesses her spouse’s life. That should be the goal of every married person, to raise others’ view of him or her through the righteous conduct of our life. What is the character of the wife described here?

  • She is prized and praiseworthy (10, 30-31).
  • Her husband and home are profited by and praise her (11-12, 28-29).
  • She is a hard worker (13-19, 27). 
  • She is generous with her material things and her wisdom (20, 26).
  • She is not ruled by worries and fears (21,25).
  • She dresses her children and house well and she dresses her character well (21-22, 24-25).

Some have used this poem to try and hold up a “Renaissance Woman,” an ideal so unrealistic that no woman could ever live up to her standard. These have had too narrow a view of the author’s purpose. He is trying to demonstrate the kind of approach that a wife, in this context, should take to her role and responsibility. She is careful about how she approaches the various duties of the home, which she rules and oversees. She adopts a wise, God-approved character. This leads her to bless all who are in various relationships with her. Husbands do well to approach their duties, character-development, and relationships in the same way. Society will be benefited from its members taking who they are and what they do more seriously. So will the church and the home. 

What a blessing to be married to an excellent wife! There is no substitute for this. How it makes the inevitable burdens of life easier to carry. Let us all strive to be excellent in the role(s) God has given to us! 

KINDNESS, KINDNESS

Neal Pollard

It was a dream, but it seemed so real to me
Hiking up a steep and rocky trail
Treacherous and hard, as far as eyes could see
So difficult, it seemed I’d fall and fail

But by my side, two men I knew so well,
My mother’s dad and one of my own elders
Their presence meant more than my lips could tell
Somehow I knew I’d make it with such helpers

We came upon a woman weathered by many years
Riddled by aches and pains and total blindness
Who told us a way to conquer foes and fears
Two words she kept repeating: “Kindness, kindness.”

It breaks the boulders of other travelers’ loads
And sweeps away all that trips and grabs
You give it freely as you climb such roads
And find it softens cruelest persecutors’ jabs.

We took her by the arm as we kept going,
Higher up this highway to our goal,
We sang a hymn and smiled with headwinds blowing
This cheered each heart and strengthened every soul.

It seemed no time the rocky stretch was traversed
The winds were calm, blue skies displayed God’s fineness
How did we keep the pace? No one reversed!
I knew full well, ’twas “kindness, kindness.”

Kindness given, kindness received, I know it!
Costs nothing to give, ’tis treasure to receive.
You’ll get much back if you’ll take the time to show it.
‘Twill give men faith and help them to believe.

Suddenly, my companions disappeared from view,
Awake, I pondered over such simple wiseness.
How can I ease your way to help and bless you?
I’ll show you nothing less than kindness, kindness!

From The Pollard Poetry Archives (III)

Two Prayers In The Temple
Neal Pollard

Up high and proud my boasts I declare
I brag and I crow with my head in the air
Til I look in the corner and see him down there
Why is that poor sinner locked up in despair?

I abstain from eating two days every week
I give money too freely, Thy thanks I now seek.
Why is that man crying, the tears stain his cheek
He’s beating his chest, must be some kind of trick.

Lord, I’m not like the swindler, the philanderer, the cheat,
Or even like that tax collector with whose prayer I compete,
I’m walking out now, Lord, my preening’s complete,
But I’ll see You here next time my boasts to repeat

While scarcely detected a man whispered his plea
His face to the floor, if not on one knee
All the sinner could say was, “Be merciful to me!”
And he left more justified than the proud Pharisee.
(Luke 18:9-14)

(prayJune 8, 1997)

From The Pollard Poetry Archives (II)

The “Wishwewouldas”
Neal Pollard

In the place of “Wishwewoulda”
Lived a people who surely could ‘a
Reached the lost in their great land
But all the “let’s” got soundly canned!

There in impious “Wishwewoulda”
All those Christians surely should ‘a
They had the money, had the skill
But lacked the love, they lacked the will

Those Christian folk in “Wishwewoulda”
Failed to consider the eternal good ‘a
All those lost folks dyin’ in sin
They expected the outsiders to walk on in

In life, they said not, “Wish We Woulda”
Self was tops in the neighborhood ‘a
All those lost folks; But, then, a fearful thing
Those “do not” Christians each went before the King

He asked them, one by one, “Oh, why?
You let these opportunities just lie!
You get no crown, though you sure could have.”
Say they, “We won not one. We wish we would have.”
(December 15, 1996)

I Met A Soul Today (POEM)

Neal Pollard

A lonely soul was crying out
For someone to direct
Their mind to know the will of God
But I chose to deflect.

An edgy soul was acting out
Intimidating and coarse
Yet they were searching for the truth
I recoiled with too little remorse.

A hopeful soul was reaching out
And attended our worship service
But I was busy, too much to do
To connect, plus I was nervous.

A hurting soul, in time of loss
Crossed my path today
I felt so bad that he was grieved
But still I hurried on my way.

A lost soul was needing Christ
She is destined for eternity
I was busy, nervous, no zeal for her
Guess I was too caught up in me

The next soul that I come upon
Lord, may I try with zeal
To share your grace and teach your Word
And your matchless love reveal.

a20cold20day2015

My Father, From An Early Age

Neal Pollard

My father, from an early age you taught me to be true,
But when I wavered on what that was, I could always look at you.

You taught me how the Lord comes first at work, at school, at play
But how much easier that became when you practiced that each day.

Dear child, I may not perfectly that narrow path traversed
But when you see me fail, dear child, I pray I will reverse

For fathers come, they teach us much, and character is fashioned
By what we think and say and do, by each prayer and passion

Dear Father, help me teach my children to walk in holy ways
But let me do that by my living, I have but a fleeting, few days

May Your lessons, Lord, they come to learn at my feet of clay,
Instill a faith that will survive ’til they get to the Judgment Day.

IMG_8978

Seeing Through Others’ Eyes

Neal Pollard

What is the greatest trial?
What do men so despise?
The hardest climb and dreariest mile
Is seeing through another’s eyes.

It may appear uncomplicated,
Completely cut and dry,
But our skills may be overrated,
As we try to see through the other’s eye.

We don’t know what they’re thinking
Can’t know their circumstance
Or how abruptly their heart is sinking
From our outward, presumptuous glance

Their motivation quite hidden,
About their intentions we have no clue,
Reading minds God made forbidden,
We can’t see from their point of view.

Instead, the chore is vital,
As we look on from without,
Our object is entitled,
To every benefit of the doubt.

Let’s pray for them, be their servant,
Love them with a Christ-like love,
Show a kindness warm and fervent,
Trust the All-Seeing-Eye above.

Treat them how we’d want to be treated,
Treat them strictly by The Book,
Leave their heart to the One seated,
Who can watch with a perfect look.

The challenge becomes less daunting
When we cut it down to size
And we give what we’re always wanting
A loving look from through Jesus’ eyes.

eyes-love-quote-quotes-Favim.com-759831.jpg

Homesick

 

Neal Pollard

This time of year our minds go back
To days gone by, down memory’s track
Of laughter, stories, food and walks
Singing, sharing family history and talks

Some who once were in our clannish stable
Have left our banquets for the heavenly table
Childhood recollections may be larger than life
And death or loss may cut like the proverbial knife

Football played on the lawn or watched on the screen
Presents opened and distant relatives seen
For the blessed, much spiritual guidance and contemplation
And talk of our hope and our common anticipation

Do you miss those times of hearth or home?
Or revel in its prospect, when kids and kin soon will come?
Are you in the company of those Scripture upholds?
Those who desire a better country, with streets of clear gold?

Who are longing for a room in the Father’s house?
To bask in the Light that no tears can ever douse?
To stroll the banks by the gentle River Of Life,
A place of happiness, joy, peace, but no strife.

A place full of family, both known or which we meet
Of those we met in Scripture or those who made our lives sweet?
Are you longing for something far better than here,
Where sight replaces faith, where peace tramples fear?

Is your life centered around new heavens, new earth
Where righteousness dwells, only those of the new birth?
Do you long for what happens after being put in the ground
The home of the soul where eternity is found?

Let’s long for and live for that heavenly land
Where we’ll see God’s dear face and hold Jesus’ hand.

15134633_10154142971300922_7849930186330223016_n
Thanksgiving 1994, at Gary and Brenda Pollard’s house (baby is Gary)

A Proverb To Ponder

Neal Pollard

Now, not all our attenders are members,
And not all our members are attenders,
But if all our attenders were members,
And all our members were attenders

THEN…

We’d have more trouble menders,
More gospel defenders,
And more true soul-winners!

BUT…

We’d have fewer people offenders,
Fewer spiritual hinderers,
And fewer religious pretenders!

SO…

Let us all render a more tender surrender
To the Commander of a love full of splendor!
As we meander on this earth full of sinners,
Let us engender a life with the Lord at the center.

Before You Type Or Talk Today

 

Neal Pollard

A pick, a poke, a controversy,
Hit and run, a verbal grenade,
We may see it as clever, though without mercy
And own it like an accolade

But are we making people think
When what and how we say it scars?
If it causes a stir, a strife, a stink
Instead of edifying it maligns and mars?

People should be thinking anyway
And what they think should be of good report
Let’s meditate on what we say
Not load up on sarcastic, sardonic retort.

The world already knows that tactic
And uses it at the drop of scarf and hat
It brightens no story, dresses up no didactic
But stokes the fire and escalates the spat

Here’s something requiring greater skill
You won’t find it in general practice
Restraint and kindness, grace and good will
Be a rose in a field of cactus.

When entering today the public sphere
And the marketplace of varied ideas
Let the Jesus in you shine bright and clear
So they can look at you and believe He is!

imageedit_39_6587200324-compressed

In Awe Of The Greatest Freedom

 

Neal Pollard

I once was without representation,
Not a citizen of that chosen nation,
Enslaved and oppressed,
Deprived of the best,
And discouraged by my lowly station,

But my freedom was bought at a price,
With the one ransom that would suffice,
Sweet liberty was bought,
And my freedom I sought,
When I opted for virtue instead of vice.

Independence is becoming and sweet,
It is found when I fall at His feet,
And make Him my Master,
I avoid pain and disaster,
He offers me victory for my defeat.

I celebrate privileged position,
Embrace His heavenly mission,
Knowing the blessings He gives,
Is because He still lives,
He hears the faithful disciple’s petition.

As we celebrate the blessings in this land,
Bestowed by a Providential hand,
Let us never forget,
That He paid our great debt,
He’s preparing what’s infinitely more grand.

Whatever may become of our dear country,
I pray that our eyes will always see,
That no earthly place is home,
We are strangers who will roam,
’Til we reach the Great City across the sea.

flag-468345_640

God Revealed (poem)

Neal Pollard

The mighty arm of creation, brooding or building
The hand that tipped the canopy, drowning sinners
The finger that stirred the languages, babblers yielding
The heart that made the heirs of Abram winners

The Majesty presented in a bush, resilient though burning
The Master who through plagues made Pharaoh submit
The Merciful One who longed for Israel’s returning
The Measuring Rod whose justice sin did not acquit.

The everlasting to everlasting, whose word’s a holy knife
Inhabitant of the heavens, swaddling Incarnate babe
Kindling Spirit, Father, Son, the way, truth and life
Perfect in character, with power the obedient to save.

Gatekeeper of heaven, consigner of the wicked to hell
Served by angels, ruler of the living and the dead
Spirit, love and light, divinest nature not one part frail
Eyes all-seeing, mind all-knowing, power unlimited.

Hope of the hopeless, joy for the tearful mourner
Source of strength for the heavy-laden soul
Lifter of the penitent fallen, all-glory adorner
Author of salvation who one day will call the judgment roll.

Since He is and is rewarder, let not one refuse His order!
If Satan’s power you’d have repealed, obey the God the word’s revealed!

IMG_1199

A Tale Of Two Crosses

Neal Pollard

“Tell us father, were you really there that day?

Did they make you take His burden the rest of the way?”

“Son, I stood in the crowd when I got my painful commission,

And they thrust it on me without asking my permission.

He was staggering and bloody and gripped by exhaustion

I was pressed into service, whether expediency or precaution.

The skull-shaped brow scowled back from a distance,

As I offered that Sufferer my lowly assistance

I was far from the lush valley that cradled my idyllic town

In the bustling, boisterous crowd full of heckles and frowns

Taking outside of Jerusalem this rough-hewn beam

Accompanied by His friends and more foes, what a curious team

Every step in the cacophony of the heckling hateful

When I got to the spot, I was wearily grateful

To cease my assignment and be through with this affront

But I stayed long enough to see men with a malice so blunt

Take the man I relieved and affix Him securely

To the implement I’d carried so slowly but surely

With frightening precision they attached Him with nails

To the cross which they lifted, oblivious to any wails

For the pain, sons, I know must have been unrelenting

As I watched this plain gentleman hang, with no champions dissenting.

No, the crowd with their clamors. bloodthirsty and wild

Made a contrast with this Man, His face loving and mild.

He hung for six hours, and during that ordeal,

Things happened that day, both incredible and surreal.

At the end, after the torture and the mockery were through,

He’d said, “Father, forgive these who know not what they do.”

Now He offered the Father Himself, His own spirit,

I wonder how many of the rabble there could hear it.”

Alexander and Rufus, the sons of this infamous servant

Had a father involved in a task he did, whether feckless or fervent.

We know him today, though we know not what became of the man.

Did it cause him to follow or, like Pilate, to wash his hands.

Was the Rufus of Romans Simon’s son, whom Paul adored?

Was Alexander the villain Paul scornfully deplored?

We won’t know on this earth just who all these men were,

Though we’d like a clear picture in place of the blur,

But we know on that morning, when we gained by Christ’s loss,

That this Simon of Cyrene carried Jesus’ cross.

Today we are called to assume a great load,

Not His cross, but ours, is the burden that’s bestowed.

The cross of self-denial, we must kill our self-rule

And be His, day by day, until our journey is through.

cross_in_sunset

Reflections At Middle Age

Neal Pollard

The first few decades we rush ahead
Wanting time to fly, but it creeps instead
Impatient to be older, sure that it’s our way
To freedom and happiness, where we’ll leisurely play.
Sure enough time goes rapidly by
Flashing so speedily, we watch it fly
Moments of grandeur, days that are grueling
Ordinary stretches our quick lives fueling
Soon the road in our rearview stretches much longer
Our foot on the brakes, though the pace is much stronger
The road out before us is sloped and quick,
We savor the present, future curves might make us sick.
But we know that this journey, so speedily taken
Will reach its destination, there’s no mistaking.
There’s still plenty of grand views on the side of this road
But we encounter new impediments and a heavier load
How could we go faster, as there are higher hills to climb?
Yet this road is so short and is hemmed in by time.
I praise God this journey is not a dead end,
I’m traveling to see my dear Savior and friend,
Who’s waiting my coming, however many more miles,
Where days are not counted, and tears become smiles.
That’s free of all calendars and increases in age,
And length of existence stretches one eternal page.
The law of averages says I’m about halfway through,
Or perhaps a bit farther, so here’s what I’ll do,
Make the most of each moment, helping others prepare
For a happy destination, showing how to get there.

180778_494356300921_2048026_n
Me on the right with my sister, Mendy, and friend, Zack Carter. About 1973.

THE HUMAN HEART (POEM)

Neal Pollard

That part of each man crafted by God
But unseen by mortal observation,
That figurative place of our emotions and thinking
Helping our spiritual station.
A place where we alone can nurture and tend,
To work to better or embitter
That directs our whole body and life on a path
That makes us a winner or quitter.
God put in place ways to help our own heart
Stay in tune to His perfect intentions.
To mold us and make us like Him in our thinking,
To stave off man’s wicked inventions.
The Bible, as His mind, He has given to mankind,
A heart monitor as well as a mirror.
It gauges our true selves and guides our footsteps,
If used it will make His will dearer.
He has given us music, a wide world of nature,
And people as living examples,
So much that exists we can see and by seeing
Can resist Satan’s slick sinful samples.
Yes, true, human hearts can be darkened and hardened,
Becoming a frightful container,
That holds in the worst, the depraved and perverted,
That becomes such a wicked retainer.
But such is the work of neglect and of lust,
A struggle that fights a higher objective,
For when in human hearts there’s willing submission,
They become more spiritually selective.
So spiritual battles are lost or they’re won
In a place where no other can see,
Keep your heart, you alone with heavenly help
Will determine your soul’s eternity.

See The Living God (Poem)

Neal Pollard

I cannot stop staring at the mountains and the skies

The beauty is so breathless, an endless feast for my eyes

I cannot look at all this and give credit to luck or chance

I’m a victor of the Creator, not a victim of circumstance.

The heavens preach this sermon, Our God He loves and lives

All nature shares the message, what joy and hope it gives

He’s up in heaven waiting until the day He’ll bring us home

For now He’s left us evidence, and we pray, “Lord Jesus, come.”

I cannot stop looking into my little baby’s eyes

I see his parents’ imprint when he laughs and when he cries

In awe my tears are welling as his face shows eternity

This little one God’s endless power shows to all who clearly see

You cannot look at people and fail to see the living God

Our design says a designer, to say “no God” is to play the fraud

He’s patiently waiting for more people to come to Him and live

What will you do with this moment?  Give what you have to give.

I cannot stop reading this Book that explains it all

My cause, my purpose, my destiny, His plan, His way, His call

It has proven to be perfect, it’s been tried and tried again.

It says there is an answer to my problem it calls sin.

The Bible shares the mind of God, it helps us find the way

It helps us understand His heart, and how to live today

It pierces our hearts so we’ll make room to put His will inside

How great our God to show us the path where we can walk at His side

THE GIRL ON THE WINDOW OR THE AISLE?

Neal Pollard
Two women sitting on a plane
They didn’t seem acquainted
The “aisle one” seemed in anger and pain
The other by cares seemed untainted
“Window woman” smiled with a beam
As past their row I filed
The other was cursing at a full steam
She was ruffled, rankled and riled
After the flight, we all stood to go
I watched as the ladies departed
The grouser was healthy, with youthful glow
But from her my eyes quickly darted
To watch the other one get to the aisle
I marveled at what I could see
Her left arm was mangled from something vile
She was amputated above that same knee.
I heard her, soft-spoken, tell of her surviving
A car fire that happened last June
But she lost her dear husband, who was driving.
They were so in love. Yes, she lost him too soon.
But the twinkle reappeared as thought about him
And anticipated their ultimate reunion
She still had much to live for, she wasn’t a bit grim
For with Christ she said she had sweet communion.
Soberly, I left still thinking about this
As the jet bridge I left for the concourse
There was “aisle girl” causing a scene hard to miss
Yelling until she was almost hoarse.
Apparently the airline had failed to upgrade
Her from lowly coach up to first class
She was special, important, so went her tirade
But her language was lowbrow and crass.
I thought about me in that moment
All healthy, without big losses or trouble
How I handle my blessings or treat my opponent
When I’m tried, am I gold or am I stubble?
Some people’s problems eclipse ours, it’s true
But we all have our crosses to bear
Yet, when you’re under pressure, they see what’s in you
Will they want what you’ll inevitably share?
I went on my way after what I witnessed that day
Resolved to live in true, Christlike style
Every thought, feeling, deed, and think that I say
Is like that girl on the window or the aisle.

A TRUTH IN THE MIDST OF TRANSIENCE (poem)

Neal Pollard

Waters vast and oceans deep create a marvel and wonder
By its volume and power but also the creatures that you’ll find thereunder.
The stars and planets, galaxies, the universe, the vastness of outer space
The finest particles and smallest molecules, the most infinitesimal place.
The power of the greatest man who rules upon the land
The lowliest person who grovels around unseen and far from grand.
The outward beauty and loveliness of the Lord’s most fair person
The inward workings and intricate details of us all makes this so very certain.
To look upon the mountains high, whether green or rocky or tall
To investigate the tiniest plant and the creatures so delicate and small
Look afar or microscopically, dig and search, uncover
Test it, taste it, see it, smell it, here’s what you’ll discover
Locked within our DNA or viewed from light years away
You see the same truth, over and over, a fact that’s here to stay.
We are the evidence of a Being whose power and knowledge are unending
Who makes what is made extraordinary, through His infinite nature expending
But making what’s made and doing what’s done, His resources are not depleted
Because He is God, He’s never without. He never needs completed.
He’s worthy and mighty, He’s wonderful and true, the God we worship and serve
He’s faithful and ingenious, active and gracious, from perfection He cannot swerve
As you walk through the day and make observations, what you see or happens to you.
Whatever may change, crumble, fall, or fade away, God will still be faithful and true.

                             Endothelial cells viewed under a microscope